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The Modern Scottish Minstrel Volume I Part 28

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Oh, lang the la.s.sie I had woo'd!

An' truth and constancy had vow'd, But cam' nae speed wi' her I lo'ed, Until she saw fair Gowrie.

I pointed to my faither's ha', Yon bonnie bield ayont the shaw, Sae loun' that there nae blast could blaw; Wad she no bide in Gowrie?

Her faither was baith glad and wae; Her mither she wad naething say; The bairnies thocht they wad get play If Kitty gaed to Gowrie.

She whiles did smile, she whiles did greet, The blush and tear were on her cheek; She naething said, an' hung her head; But now she's Leddy Gowrie.



[55] There are several other versions of this highly popular song. One of these, the composition of William Reid of Glasgow, has already been adduced. See _ante_, p. 157. Another, which is one of the most celebrated, in the first two verses is nearly the same with the opening stanzas of Lady Nairn's version, the sequel proceeding as follows:--

I praised her beauty loud an' lang, Then round her waist my arms I flang, And said, "My dearie, will ye gang To see the Ca.r.s.e o' Gowrie?

"I'll tak ye to my father's ha', In yon green field beside the shaw; I'll mak you lady o' them a'-- The brawest wife in Gowrie."

Soft kisses on her lips I laid, The blush upon her cheek soon spread; She whisper'd modestly, and said, "I'll gang wi' you to Gowrie."

The auld folks soon ga'e their consent, Syne for Mess John they quickly sent, Wha tied them to their heart's content, And now she's Lady Gowrie.

Mr Lyle, in his "Ancient Ballads and Songs" (Lond. 1827, 12mo, p. 138), presents an additional version, which we subjoin. Mr Lyle remarks, that he had revised it from an old stall copy, ascribed to Colonel James Ramsay of Stirling Castle.

THE BONNIE La.s.s O' GOWRIE.

A wee bit north frae yon green wood, Whar draps the sunny showerie, The lofty elm-trees spread their boughs, To shade the braes o' Gowrie; An' by yon burn ye scarce can see, There stan's a rustic bowerie, Whar lives a la.s.s mair dear to me Than a' the maids in Gowrie.

Nae gentle bard e'er sang her praise, 'Cause fortune ne'er left dowrie; The rose blaws sweetest in the shade, So does the flower o' Gowrie.

When April strews her garlands roun', Her bare foot treads the flowerie; Her sang gars a' the woodlands ring, That shade the braes o' Gowrie.

Her modest blush an' downcast e'e, A flame sent beating through me; For she surpa.s.ses all I've seen, This peerless flower o' Gowrie.

I've lain upon the dewy green Until the evening hourie, An' thought gin e'er I durst ca' mine The bonnie la.s.s o' Gowrie.

The bushes that o'erhang the burn, Sae verdant and sae flowerie, Can witness that I love alane The bonnie la.s.s o' Gowrie.

Let ithers dream an' sigh for wealth, An' fashions fleet and flowery; Gi'e me that heav'nly innocence Upon the braes o' Gowrie.

THERE GROWS A BONNIE BRIER BUSH.[56]

There grows a bonnie brier bush in our kail-yard, And white are the blossoms o't in our kail-yard, Like wee bit white c.o.c.kauds to deck our Hieland lads, And the la.s.ses lo'e the bonnie bush in our kail-yard.

An' it 's hame, an' it 's hame to the north countrie, An' it 's hame, an' it 's hame to the north countrie, Where my bonnie Jean is waiting for me, Wi' a heart kind and true, in my ain countrie.

"But were they a' true that were far awa?

Oh! were they a' true that were far awa'?

They drew up wi' glaikit Englishers at Carlisle Ha', And forgot auld frien's that were far awa.

"Ye 'll come nae mair, Jamie, where aft ye 've been, Ye 'll come nae mair, Jamie, to Atholl's green; Ye lo'ed ower weel the dancin' at Carlisle Ha', And forgot the Hieland hills that were far awa'."

"I ne'er lo'ed a dance but on Atholl's green, I ne'er lo'ed a la.s.sie but my dorty Jean, Sair, sair against my will did I bide sae lang awa', And my heart was aye in Atholl's green at Carlisle Ha'."

The brier bush was bonnie ance in our kail-yard; The brier bush was bonnie ance in our kail-yard; A blast blew ower the hill, that gae Atholl's flowers a chill, And the bloom 's blawn aff the bonnie bush in our kail-yard.

[56] The present is an amended version of an old song, ent.i.tled "The Bonnie Brier Bush," altered and added to by Burns for the "Musical Museum."

JOHN TOD.

He 's a terrible man, John Tod, John Tod, He 's a terrible man, John Tod; He scolds in the house, He scolds at the door, He scolds on the vera hie road, John Tod, He scolds on the vera hie road.

The weans a' fear John Tod, John Tod, The weans a' fear John Tod; When he 's pa.s.sing by, The mithers will cry,-- Here 's an ill wean, John Tod, John Tod, Here 's an ill wean, John Tod.

The callants a' fear John Tod, John Tod, The callants a' fear John Tod; If they steal but a neep, The callant he 'll whip, And it 's unco weel done o' John Tod, John Tod, It 's unco weel done o' John Tod.

An' saw ye nae wee John Tod, John Tod?

Oh, saw ye nae wee John Tod?

His bannet was blue, His shoon maistly new, An' weel does he keep the kirk road, John Tod, Oh, weel does he keep the kirk road.

How is he fendin', John Tod, John Tod?

How is he wendin', John Tod?

He 's scourin' the land, Wi' his rung in his hand, An' the French wadna frighten John Tod, John Tod, An' the French wadna frighten John Tod.

Ye 're sun-brunt and batter'd, John Tod, John Tod Ye 're tant.i.t and tatter'd, John Tod; Wi' your auld strippit coul, Ye look maist like a fule, But there 's nouse i' the lining,[57] John Tod, John Tod, But there 's nouse i' the lining, John Tod.

He 's weel respeckit, John Tod, John Tod, He 's weel respeckit, John Tod; He 's a terrible man, But we 'd a' gae wrang If e'er he sud leave us, John Tod, John Tod, If e'er he sud leave us, John Tod.

[57] A familiar Scottish phrase for good sense.

WILL YE NO COME BACK AGAIN?

Bonnie Charlie 's now awa', Safely ower the friendly main; Mony a heart will break in twa Should he ne'er come back again.

Will ye no come back again?

Will ye no come back again?

Better lo'ed ye canna be-- Will ye no come back again?

Ye trusted in your Hieland men, They trusted you, dear Charlie!

They kent your hiding in the glen, Death or exile braving.

Will ye no, &c.

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The Modern Scottish Minstrel Volume I Part 28 summary

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